By the time the Crimson Blades reached the scene of battle, it was over. Bodies lay strewn over the uneven terrain; both Scourge and Sigil of Shadow. The place was eerily quiet, bathed in moonlight.

With a growing sense of fear and dread, Tiene scanned the guild bodies. Some were barely recognisable, mutilated, their limbs a short distance from their ravaged bodies. A scant few survivors rallied around the Crimson Blades as they arrived. Their wounds were severe but would heal in time.

Trembling, Tiene stumbled through the battlefield. She tripped, nearly losing her footing, and as she glanced down, she saw the broken body of Belaen Bloodbane. His body, flayed, armour and skin lying in shreds, innards splashed over the grass. His head lay a few feet from his body; the wide eyes staring up at her, terror remaining within.

The steel which had separated his head from his body lay close by still in the hand of its wielder. A Sigil of Shadow, whose body was also battered and torn, lay prostrate on the bloodied ground. His breathing was shallow, exhausted.

"I had to," the assassin whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes, with his mouth trembling. "The necromancers - they brought him back. He - he -" Overcome, the man's voice failed him, and he wept, mourning the loss of his Guild Master and fellow Shadows.

All Tiene could think of was her husband. "Where's Camnath?" she asked the injured rogue.

He didn't answer, couldn't - his grief was so that he was unable to speak. He managed to point though.

Tiene looked and saw Brett with a small band of his elite standing around a fallen tree. The burly Guild Master looked up as he heard Tiene approach. The anxious look on his face did not bear well. She locked eyes with him. Clapping a hand over his mouth Brett looked away.

Tiene's heart contracted and her feet felt as though they were dragging through a mire, heavy, weighed down.

Then a movement caught her eye. Camnath's ponytail bobbed above the fallen tree.

Relief washed over her, and she grunted as she pushed herself forward, forcing her feet to move. Gradually, her pace quickened across the blood-drenched grass, as she dodged lifeless, broken bodies underfoot. "Camnath!" she called, her heart beating madly.

The ponytail disappeared. "Camnath!" she cried again. Why was he not answering her?

As Tiene reached the tree, Brett stepped toward her, his hand grabbing her arm. She looked at him. His eyes were wet, sorrowful, defeated. "I'm so sorry, lass. We tried to reach him in time..."

Tiene's breathing quickened in short, sharp, panicked breaths. Feeling weak as if she was about to collapse, she grabbed Brett's arm for support. Her colleagues then stepped back but maintained a silent vigil.

Fearful once more, she slowly turned to face the figure they had all been shielding from her.

Camnath sat with his back to her, head bowed. Hope flared as she saw he was breathing, his shoulders rising and falling. She fell to her knees, tentatively reaching out to him. "Let me help you, my love," she said, sniffing, fear making her voice tremble. "Fyn will be here in a moment, and he will heal you."

Camnath shook his head very slowly. "He cannot Tiene." His voice was low, dense, filled with sorrow.

A tightness gripped Tiene's chest again, as her hand rested on his shoulder. "Please, we must try," she whimpered, pleading.

Music: Your Dying Heart composed by Adrian von Ziegler 

https://youtu.be/LkABwD3HmCA

"There is no cure for this, I'm afraid," Camnath's voice hitched. Slowly, he turned to face her.

As he turned, Tiene's tears flowed, and she couldn't contain her sobs anymore.

The left side of his face was torn, exposing teeth, jawbone and muscle - only a small portion of his once beautiful mouth remained. The other side of his face was practically rent of flesh altogether, his skull showing through the glistening film of fresh blood. Thin strands of ripped skin fluttered and rippled on the night breeze.

His mutilated hands were just bloodied bone and tendons. Severely rent, his armour afforded little cover for the damage the Scourge had visited upon his body. Some of his innards lay strewn by his side, pulsing, glistening, wisps from their failing heat rising and floating away on the night air.

Tiene couldn't speak, her face was awash with tears.

"I knew we would not survive when I saw them break through the barrier," Camnath said. He looked distant as if the vision of the attack still played in his mind.

A woeful smile stretched his mutilated mouth as he returned his attention to Tiene. "The necromancers didn't reach me at least. But, they got Belaen and some others, hence the beheadings. We had to release them from such a curse..." His voice diminished.

Tiene's breath caught in her throat, and she lowered her head, desperately trying to stop the torrent which seemed to know no end.

Battling with the agony of seeing Camnath maimed, she also felt utter fury. Belaen had led his guild into a trap, just as Brett had warned him - but he did not listen. Now the elf Guild Master was dead along with a large number of his squad. And her beloved Camnath, loyal to the bitter end, could not refuse his leader, his mentor, and he followed him into battle.

Louvel, Lexie and Fyn reached the couple moments later. Louvel, shocked and distraught, turned away, clasping his hand over his mouth. "No, no. No!" he roared at no-one and nothing in particular. "Not Camnath!"

Lexie fell to her knees, sobbing when she saw Camnath's mangled body.

Fyn, if he had been able to shed tears, would have cried a river for the young couple. "Oh, my dear friends," he gasped. "I feel utterly inadequate. Camnath I am so sorry, I cannot..."

Camnath nodded slowly. "It is alright, Fyn," he said with a wan smile on his ruined mouth. "I know."

Tiene realised these harbingers of undeath, this horrible plague, the ever-increasing Scourge, were relentless, and healers in Azeroth, whether living or undead, knew not how to keep this pestilence at bay. Glancing at Fyn, she knew he now questioned why he had ever answered the call of the Light.

Louvel and Lexie drew nearer, trying to keep their sorrow contained. Camnath laughed drily. "I look like you all now," he said, trying to make light of his dire situation. "But, I would not be as courageous as you are, my friends. Had I become undead, I could not bear it."

Then he turned back to Tiene. For all the mutilation had been severe to his once handsome face, he still has some tears left to shed. A lone tear traced the side of his nose as he looked at the woman he loved more than life itself. "I am sorry, my love. We will never do the things we planned; a proper home, a future, a family."

Reaching out to take her husband's hand, Tiene was shocked when he withdrew from her touch. "No Tiene," he said, regretful. "Do not touch this torn flesh."

She did not heed him, however, and clasped his hand, refusing to let go. Sliding onto her bottom, nestling close to him, she lay her head on his chest. The wheeze and dry rattle from within denoted his inner organs had started shutting down. Tiene cried quietly, the pain of trying to keep debilitating sobs suppressed, tightening her chest more by the second.

The thought of losing Camnath was unthinkable; it was not an option she would accept. With her voice trembling, husky from battling her pain, she said, "We will have our dreams, Camnath - only not in this world. I cannot carry on without you. Our vows, remember? In light and shadow, I will walk with thee - "

He flinched. "No! Do not think like that, my love. You are not ready for the death shadow yet." His cold, ravaged fingers curled around her warm, soft ones. "My darling Tiene, you are the brightest star amid my darkest skies. I will love you forever." His breath was starting to labour. "There is much you can contribute to right the wrong which has befallen our world. You can make a difference, Tiene. I believe in you. "

His words were killing her. Camnath was everything to her, her reason for living, for fighting on in times of terrible hardship, for believing there would be a bright future, for never giving up when loss became too much to bear. She needed him desperately. He was her life, her rock.

"Besides," he continued, trying to stop his voice from breaking, "you have those three to look after, and they are high maintenance." The sound more of a rattle than a laugh, fell from his mouth as he pointed at their undead friends.

The three undead smirked half-hearted at Camnath's attempt to lighten the mood, but it did little to alleviate the pain they felt. Emotions remained intact for the undead, even if nothing physical did.

With some degree of difficulty, Camnath uncovered one of his daggers. "Tiene, I need you to do something for me." Hilt first, he handed the blade to her.

Tiene stared at it. A new dread began to rise as she realised what he was asking of her. She pushed back up on her knees, shaking her head, tears still flowing. "Please, do not ask this of me, Camnath!"

With what little lips remained, Camnath smiled. It would have been an unsettling sight to anyone who did not know the man, but for Tiene, it was the smile of the man who loved her deeply, had given his heart to her many years ago, and trusted her, implicitly, to carry out the task he required.

"Make it swift, my love, end my suffering. Once it is done, burn my remains." He paused, the words now becoming painful, labouring in his raw throat. "And, if I may ask one more thing?"

Tiene could not speak, to do so would cause her to falter and fail in what he was entrusting her to do. She nodded and slowly took the dagger from him.

He beckoned her nearer and whispered in her ear. Fresh tears cascaded over her cheeks, her eyes scrunching tight, trying to stem their flow.

Camnath lifted her chin, very gently. He mouthed, "I love you."

"I love you too. So very, very much," Tiene whispered back, touching her husband's face.

She leaned down and kissed him. He was still beautiful to her. "Wait for me in the Twisting Nether," she said in a broken whisper.

"Forever, if need be," he replied. Then Camnath spoke specific words from their vows to give her courage. "From death's cold chrysalis, we shall be reborn - remember?"

Nodding, she leaned in for one more kiss. Then her tears mixed with Camnath's blood as she drove the blade home.

                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quel'thalas was once more beautiful. Prince Kael'thas for all his treacherous allegiance, had indeed seen that his people prospered.

In the absence of the Sunwell, he bestowed a "gift". The Prince had Magister Rommath bring back a method of extracting magic from living creatures in the area. Not all the Blood Elves had readily accepted the alternative, but some had welcomed it, and it had proved beneficial to reinstating their vitality.

None other than Illidan Stormrage had shared the knowledge of extracting sustenance in this manner. The traitorous Night Elf who Kael'thas had helped Maiev Shadowsong pursue now had the Prince under his wing. By allying himself with the naga, Kael'thas willingly became one of Illidan's lieutenants.

Nonetheless, the renewed magic heralded the return of the Magisters to Quel'thalas. They rebuilt the inner city to its former glory in record time, and it was once more as Tiene remembered from her childhood. Well, almost.

Music: For A Lost Love composed by Adrian von Ziegler 

https://youtu.be/rwnSy-tChec

She watched, silently, as a lynx meandered the pastures, looking for its dinner before it slunk back off into the undergrowth when nothing was on offer.

Dragonhawks rode the soft air currents on their velvety wings. The sun, reflecting the pastel shades of their beautiful bodies, made them shimmer. Majestically the winged creatures climbed the warm draughts, their long ribbon-like tails rippling behind them. In a soft and sleek whoosh, they dove back toward the ground, hovering for a moment or two before repeating their graceful dance on air.

A red cape billowed around her body as Tiene clasped a small urn to her breast. She absorbed the expanse of lush meadows, staring out beyond the new-built spires and buildings of Silvermoon, and toward the Great Sea. Golden memories flitted across her mind.

Behind her stood more people - Brett, Louvel, Fyn and Lexie. To her left stood Lor'themar, and Camnath's family - his father, Soaris, mother, Velleane, and his sister Faealle. All were grieving, but bearing it with quiet dignity for this particular moment.

Tiene glanced down at the urn in her hands. Inside the little clay container, were her beloved's ashes. Everyone had said their eulogies and were waiting for her to carry out Camnath's last request.

Part of her did not want to do it; she wanted to hold on to them. All Tiene had left of the man she loved deeply, was a lock of his hair. But, this had been his dying wish, and as such, she would not deny him. Tears traced over her cheeks as she heard his voice in her head.

"Take me home to Quel'thalas." He'd whispered. "Scatter my ashes in the evergreen meadows, where once, I stole a kiss. There my spirit will wait - carried on the wings of butterflies until I hold you in my arms again."

She twisted the urn's lid and carefully removed it. Tipping it slightly, she held the container up, allowing the breeze to wrap her beloved in its gentle embrace. She watched as the ashes swirled from the clay pot, rising on the warm draught.

Then something entirely unexpected happened. From the flowering shrubs nearby, a kaleidoscope of butterflies rose. Thousands upon thousands of the tiny wings took flight and rose to meet the ashes of Camnath Sunspear.

The Sunspear family gathered round Tiene, each with their arms around her. They watched in silent awe as the butterflies swirled and danced before them. They shared a moment or two in quiet reverence, before turning to leave, allowing Tiene some time alone to watch the colourful display.

As if they had been waiting for that very moment, the kaleidoscope turned and fluttered towards Tiene in one swirling, brightly coloured mass. They encircled her, covering her from her feet to her head. She gasped, her lips quivering into a smile as they swarmed all around her.

The beating wings rose as she lifted her arms and one butterfly landed on her hand. She watched as its wings opened and closed slowly, the tiny feet padding on her skin while the proboscis flicked the air. She brought the tiny creature to her face. "Wait for me," she whispered.

From somewhere, far in the distance, she heard Camnath's reply - "Forever if need be..."

"Shorel'aran da'tad riom*." Tiene smiled through her tears and lifting her hand, the little butterfly took flight and rejoined its companions. They sailed off over the meadows once more.

Tiene stood watching until they vanished from sight. She turned toward Silvermoon taking what little comfort she could in the knowledge her ebony-haired soulmate, husband and eternal love, was now at peace.

All we can do is walk the road we are given with such dignity as we can muster, each to our own glory or demise, and pray that there yet remains something of our own hearts when all is said and done. By the Sunwell, I hope that there will remain something of mine. 

– excerpt from In The Shadow of The Sun, by Sarah Pine

* Shorel'aran da'tad riom – Farewell my love

                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!!!

Another tough chapter to write. I hope you are able to stand more. 

All comments, advice and suggestions are most welcome. Should you like this chapter, please be kind enough to vote, it would be most appreciated.